Title: Draco's pathetic attempt at romance
Disclaimer: I just kidnapped Harry and tied him to my bed. Now, Draco's looking for me and he looks really angry! So…just to let you guys know, I don't own Harry Potter pkay? J
Summary: It's Valentines Day and Harry has hinted to Draco that he had promised him something big...but Draco doesn't remember anything. Thus, he asks the most unbeleivable bunch to help him.Chaos ensues. HPDM Fluff
Author's Notes: This is the re-written and revised story. I made the grammar corrections and added or subtracted a few things that are extra but other than that, it is pretty much the same thing. I just deleted the Prologue and Epilogue so make it longer. Enjoy!
Chapter One
"So I'll be at your room on Friday at seven okay?" Harry asked, out of the blue.
Draco finished sipping his butter beer before replying. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked. Normally, Harry would just barge into his room any day, unannounced but this was something new. Very rarely would Harry announce one of his visits.
Harry frowned. "So that when I get there, you'll be ready."
"For what?"
Harry's frown deepened. "What do you mean for what? Don't tell me you forgot already." he said, his eyes narrowing.
Draco looked confused. As far as he knew, they had no plans for this Friday... yes, his planner was empty and he was a very organized person! He would know if they had a trip or some event on any given day.
"Draco! You promised not to forget." Harry pouted.
Oh well there's the rub. He promised. Malfoy's rarely stick with their promises. He forgot to tell Harry that when they got together at the end of their sixth year at Hogwarts last year.
"Forget what?"
Harry blushed. "You know, the THING." he emphasized thing with quotation marks and Draco raised a brow.
Truthfully, he had no idea what Harry was getting at. Did he mean sex or something, because they just did that last night. What could it be?
Deciding not to anger his boyfriend any more tonight or he might not get a beddy-bye kiss, he nodded his head and decided to play along. He would find out later what it was that he had promised. "Oh, you mean that thing."
Harry smiled. "Yes, that thing! Now, promise me that you'll be ready okay. Don't disappoint me." Harry said, standing up and giving him a quick peck on the lips before waiving to Ron and Hermione.
Draco sighed.
As Weasel, the-boy-wonder usually says, now he's in big doo-doo.
He just promised Harry something he had no idea what.
And if he didn't come through, Harry would be disappointed in him.
Damn.
What could he do?
And then, suddenly, being the great Malfoy that he was, an idea struck him.
There was a soft cackling and he walked out of the Three Broomsticks, robe billowing before him, ready to put his plan into action.
Draco hid by the statue, claws retracted, ready to pounce for when his prey arrives at the spot. Oh yes, Draco Malfoy was a great hunter of stupid people, especially weasels. Yes indeed.
But his mind returned to his mission when he heard the tap-tap-tapping of shoes on the cold cement. No doubt, it was his prey.
"So, Weasley, what do you think about this weather?" Draco called out as he sauntered up to Ron before Friday morning's D.A. practice. "Nice, eh?"
Weasley blinked stupidly at him. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
"I just want to talk about the weather! Is that forbidden now?"
Weasley narrowed his eyes and glared. "I mean, what is your ulterior motive?" And Draco wanted to throw him into Azkaban for trying to foil his great idea.
"I just think the weather's nice! Is that so wrong?" Draco turned up his nose, smiling inwardly at how witty he was. "Of course, maybe you don't appreciate conversations about the weather--"
"No, I don't, especially not with you." Weasley interrupted him flippantly.
"--what with being so plebeian and all," finished Draco with a glare. "Everyone talks about how nice the weather is."
"Especially when it rains and they're down in the dungeons, right?" Weasley rolled his eyes and turned away, leaving Draco to gape after him. How dare he? No one turned his back on a Malfoy--especially not on Draco--without getting what was coming to them.
"YOUR GIRLFRIEND'S A MUDBLOOD!"
So, what with Plan A down the drain, Draco needed to go to Plan B, and right away too because it was exactly 1:27 in the afternoon, and Harry was, if anything, punctual when he wants to be. (Draco had a feeling that the boy would be on time for this one.)
But he had one slight snag.
He had no plan B.
Hell, he just winged Plan A and it was flushed down the toilet by stupid Plebeians who knew nothing of his delicate nature.
Bastard Weasel.
Pansy Parkinson was what the Slytherin called one of the 'Chosen Few'. She allied herself with the most powerful families -like she was taught in grade school- and she herself was from a powerful family. But right at this moment, she was willing to sacrifice everything she had -everything- just to shut up one hysteric Draco Malfoy.
"Honestly, Pansy, I have no idea! Potter just made this up! I mean, if I had promised something, I would have written it in my-"
"Diary." Pansy supplemented.
"Planner." Draco finished.
"But I didn't so Harry must have made it up! Ha! There you go! Now, I'll go tell him that and then... no more problem!" Draco cried, seemingly acting like a deranged person to anyone outside the Slytherin walls.
Pansy spoke in a drawl much like Draco's. "Yeah, but you already promised him that you had whatever it was ready at any second, and if you tell him that you have no idea what it was, he'll be royally pissed. And then -gasp- the Golden Boy won't give you any!"
Draco raised an elegant, nicely trimmed brow. He knew Pansy was into hysterics, but he hated it when she pulled a leaf from his book.
"Pansy, you wench! How dare you screw up my logic, I swear, everyone in this Merlin forsaken school has gone bonkers!" Draco cried, opening a compact from god-knows-where to look at his hair.
It was a bit disheveled, a little out of place, and otherwise, still looked decent.
That was not a good thing.
And is that a splint end, right there?
Draco gasped, grabbed a pair of scissors from the table and was ready to cut of a lock of magnificent blonde when the door banged open, and in came Twiddle-Dee and Twiddle-Dumb a.k.a. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, mouth full of cherry pie that looked like pig throw up and grubby hands, red with cherry syrup. Draco tried to hold his lunch down.
They started talking, but really, who could understand them when their mouths were full. To Draco, it sounded like they were choking, but he was beyond caring.
"Aren't you going to bother with what they're trying to tell you?" Pansy asked, bored and slightly disgusted at he image of two flailing fat hands as if gasping for air.
Draco shrugged. "Not really. Why?"
"Because it's something very important." Blaise ran into the room as well, breath ragged, sweat pouring into his every pore.
"Really?" Draco drawled. "And what is this something very important?" he asked, seemingly unconcerned.
Blaise, despite his form, managed a smile. "You wouldn't be acting all cool when I tell you what it is, Draco." his smile turned into a smirk when Draco raised a brow at him, but did nothing else. "As a matter of fact, you should be begging me to tell you this. Granted, it's not much, but it's a better lead than what you have."
"Regarding?" Pansy asked, curiosity aroused.
"Nothing. Just regarding Potter and your super secret special event for tonight."
That did it, for Draco Malfoy was suddenly at Blaise's side, cooing and coaxing the boy into submission.
He put his arm around Blaise shoulder and spoke. "C'mon, Blaise, old buddy old friend, tell me, what is it that Potter was planning for the two of us?" He asked, voice inviting, smile, disalarming.
Blaise removed his hand and smiled at him. "Because you're such a good friend of mine, I'll tell you. Oh, and also, because I want to see how desperate you can get." Blaise cleared his throat and sat down on the love seat. "So, me and Neville-"
"Neville and I." corrected Draco.
Blaise shot his a look. "Fine, Neville and I, were by the greenhouse earlier, you know, watering the plants -making out- when I said, 'so... have you heard about Potter and Draco's plan for tonight?' and he say's 'yeah, Harry's told me all about it! I'm so jealous, and it's so romantic too!'"
"And?" Pansy and Draco both cried in unison.
"And that was all I got. Professor Sprout caught me zipping down Neville's pants and she kicked me out." he shrugged.
Draco's vision turned red and his fury was unleashed like a wild cat.
He attacked.
Without mercy.
Poor Blaise didn't even know what hit him.
"Are you done now?" Draco asked, sitting behind the curtain of the infirmary, his legs swinging in the tall chair.
They had just brought Blaise to Mme. Pomfrey's for a check up right after Draco's outrage. There were a few scratches here and there (Draco had nice long manicured cuticles), a check up for rabies infection that turned out negative, but all in all, Blaise Zabini was fine, well, dandy and best of all, alive.
Blaise didn't even bother to answer, as he walked out of the infirmary curtained bed and stared at Draco, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle. "What now, oh wise one?" he cried.
"Blaise don't do sarcasm, it doesn't fit you." Draco waved his hand in the air and looked at the watch. "Now look what you did, it's 2:05 and we haven't got an inkling bout Potter's malicious plan for me."
Pansy nodded. "Yeah, we need a plan." And proceeded to conjure a pen and paper with a flick of her wand. "Okay, first, Blaise, I need you to do a reconnaissance mission. Ask Neville for more information on the event at nineteen hundred hours today. Okay, all of you try to get something helpful. We'll rendezvous at the common room at fifteen hundred. Do you all hear me?" she asked, and waited until Draco, Blaise, Vincent, and Gregory all nodded their head.
"Okay then, let's move out!"
3:00 P.M. Slytherin Common Room
"Did you guys find anything?" Pansy asked when she got there only to be greeted by the rest of the group.
Blaise cleared his voice. "Well, Neville was promised not to tell anyone so I only got a little bit more than before."
"And?" Draco asked.
"Well, apparently, it has something to do with music. Singing to be exact. Did you promise Harry you'd serenade him with your lovely voice?" Blaise asked in a mocking voice. "No offense."
"None taken." Draco grumbled. "However, I don't remember promising Harry to sing. I don't sing. Malfoy's don't sing."
"And what did you find, Crabbe, Goyle?" Pansy asked the two, ignoring Draco's babbles.
"Uh... we found food." Goyle spoke.
Crabbe nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, food! Lot's and lot's of food."
Blaise snorted. "Is this about your appetite or the event?"
"What event?" Crabbe and Goyle asked in unison.
Draco grunted as he hit his head on the table with a loud thunk.
This is an all time low for him.
Things could not get any worse.
Draco Malfoy just hit rock bottom.
"And Pansy, what did you found out?" Draco asked the girl who twiddled her hair in her finger.
Pansy gave him a bright smile. "Well, as it turns out, I'm more useful than any of you."
"And?" The group chorused.
"I found out that today is the fourteenth of February."
Draco glared at her. "I could have told you that."
"Do you know what the fourteenth of February is, Draco?" Pansy mocked.
"Today?" Draco asked, unsure.
Blaise laughed. "No, you pollock, it's Valentines Day!"
"Oh."
Oh.
"Crap."
Crap.
"So then that means..."
"It means, Draco, that Harry Potter is expecting you to do something utterly saccharine and something pukingly sweet and romantic." Blaise Zabini finished for him, looking at his wonderfully polished nails, probably rival that of Draco's.
And once again, Draco Malfoy stood corrected.
Things could get worse.
Draco Malfoy just didn't hit rock bottom.
Rock bottom hit Draco Malfoy.
to be continued...
Criticisms considered.
Compliments Adored.
Flames mocked, laughed at, and then deleted.